I still exist

3 weeks sans blogging? The maddness...

I can't be late to work, so here's whats up, in bullet points (because seriously, who doesn't love bullet points?:

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• I went to New Orleans with Epoch and some fine folks from FBC Sparkman. [Grant's pictures are better, so go here.]

• I was re-introduced to the fabulousness of Sherrill Moffet, wife of the great E-Moff.
• I feel asleep on a porch with Ronald McDonald.
• I played frisbee and ate beignets with the Bernsons. They do my heart good. We also discovered a tiny gnome village in City Park.
• I hammered some nails, moved some walls, and saw perhaps the greatest invention ever:
  
  
  

• Started taking Pristiq on August 10^th. So far so good.
  
  
• My parents celebrated their 34^th wedding anniversary. My sister and brother in law celebrated their 7^th.
  
• I stuck a blank cd in my Blazer and it freaked out. For the past week its been constantly trying to eject something and flashing :check cd” on the screen. No worries though, I fixed it last night. [yesi’mawesome]
  
• I met the guy who lives below me at the laundromat in NLR. A few days later re-met his girlfriend and we all raided the newly vacated apartment across from mine. Yay for free curtains and paint.
  
• My cell phone spazzed out right before the NoLa trip, so I had to get a ghetto go-phone and switch my sim card. I’m mildly sad about losing the phone, but I really miss my calendar, camera, mp3 player, and alarm clock. It was my everything and I’m pretty much lost right now.
  
• Finally got to see Falcon Scott play...very entertaining/impressive.
  
• On the same night I was introduced to Futuro Boots and my life might never be the same...

I'm sure I missed some things, but stupid work and their stupid obsession with being on time requires that I make haste.

I miss my Ellen.

I'm need new TOMS.

The End.

because you really don't want to watch those reruns of Scrubs anyway...

Interesting: Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw - Jesus for President Tour at Discovery Church in Orlando (Status)

Includes the phrase, "Amish for Homeland Security" and some music that is unexpected but adds a lot to the experience.

Give it a listen. It's long but worth it.

Oh Tuesday, why are you so slow?

Some thoughts. . .

and random work-day

observations.

Thus, an illustration of my mental abstraction.

This Status message included one of my favorite verses, from Mark 9:

"I do believe, help my unbelief!"

This paradoxical statement sums up much of my life. I've prayed this so many times, needing more faith, needing to believe in His power.

I smell onions. I hate onions.

I've had 3 Dr Pepper since I clocked in,

its currently 1:50pm.

Do my actions illustrate what I say I believe?

Faith without works is dead. Or, as I read somewhere, "Your doings don't define you, they reveal what is true about you."

Good hair days should not be wasted in a cubicle.

2 Corinthians 2:9 says "His power is perfect in my weakness."

My cardigan has left black fuzz all over my shirt.

Yes, I wear cardigans. I'm also rockin' a bun.

This word "weakness" is asthéneia, which means "want of strength, sickliness, feebleness (of mind or body)." So, Paul is talking about actual physical weakness. Why do I have so much trouble having faith in His power when it comes to my own physical weakness?

PlayRadioPlay! makes me wanna

have a dance party at my desk.

The past few months have been physically difficult, I've never felt weak like this before. . . tired, empty. . . Unfortunately, life doesn't just stop whenever my body needs it to; dishes, laundry, groceries, etc. . . it has to get done sometime. But what about serving, ministry, loving my neighbor? What about spending time reading, writing, and praying? These elements have been noticeably absent from my life, revealing the truth about me--I prioritize duty and being responsible above what really matters. Seems rather self centered, eh?

Gavin Mikhail, mmmboy.

"...sing me anything..."

I do believe, but I don't. Sometimes I can't see past my weakness.

I can't say "Fuchs."

Confession: I wish I could learn what I'm supposed to from all this more quickly, I'm tired of being tired.

*opens spreadsheet*

MOTHER of PEARL-are you kidding me?

Jeez. . .

A Little Help

I think, when it comes to our hands, one of the greatest things we could begin to do is to raise our hands, and to admit that we have a need.

Josh Loveless

Epilogue pt.2

If we hear of someone's need, we tell them we'll pray about it. What if we are the answer to that prayer?
I've probably said it before, but love is action. Love isn't empty words that tumble out of our mouth without any real care or concern. "I'll pray for you" or "I hope things get better." In some situations, pray is all that necessary, or all that you can do, but other times, if we really think, we can do something to help. Maybe it won't help the specific problem, but surprising a person with a card or little gift can mean a lot. Spending time with a person may be the encouragement they need. Something, anything, to show you care.

Needs are needs, but I know I'm bad a qualifying things. I'm unwilling to ask for help when a need is a result of my own poor decision making, or if I see it as something I should be able to handle. I get overwhelmed by life sometimes. When the dark days come I struggle just to do dishes and laundry. Sometimes med changes have side effects that make being awake almost impossible, so go to work then come home and crash. But then stuff doesn't get done, laundry doesn't get washed, trash piles up. But come on, I'm 24(ish), I should be able to work a 40-hour week and keep up with housework, right?

I think sometimes we're all "the least." We all need a little help sometimes. Jesus didn't qualify. He never addressed why these people were hungry, sick, naked, or in prison. He simply commanded that we help.

We say in our African idiom, ‘A person is a person through other persons.’ The solitary human being is a contradiction in terms. I need you in order to be me as you need me in order to be you. We are caught up in a delicate network of interconnectedness. I have gifts that you don’t, and you have gifts I don’t–voila! We are made different so that we may know our need of one another. The completely self-sufficient human being is subhuman. Thus diversity, difference is of the essence of who we are.
-Archbishop Desmond Tutu

"Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)" -WW

A couple weeks ago I wrote a little about being strong-willed, so I had to laugh when I heard the illustration used in this message from Status. . .I highly recommend listen to the whole thing, but because you all think you're just so busy I'll let you cheat: skip to about the 24th minute.

I really didn't realize where the message was going at the time, but when I finished listening to it I was exhausted. They began with the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand, focusing on the disciples role and reaction to the situation, then specifically at the significance of the little boy with the bread and fish and how our attitude is vastly different than his. His willingness to give up what he had (all that he had?) to be used by Jesus is not often reflected in our lives. We are so self-focused, its about my wants, my needs, my problems, my accomplishments, my, my, my. . .

But, to say it Colson-style, how now shall we live?
Selflessly. Humbly. Thoughtfully and caringly.

Don't believe me? Ask the dishes!*

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!

(Philippians 3:4-8)

For quite awhile I remember supporting the idea that you shouldn't "date the church." I did a little Nancy Drew-ing and figured out that the phrase more-or-less came from Joshua Harris' book Stop Dating the Church. Apparently this guy is against dating anything, girls, churches, etc. . . I wonder how he feels about carbon. . .? But I digress. I haven't read the book, but I believe the general idea is that we are not supposed to choose a church as a consumer. The phrase "don't date the church" has been rolling around in my head for a few weeks now, and the timeliness of Status' message is once again so odd (and yes, by "odd" I do mean "God").

In its plainest form, the lesson is not to ask what your church can give or do for you, but rather what can you offer to and through your church. It looks so pretty as words, but real life has a way of making everything a bit more complicated.

Right now(ish) I need to make a decision, then I need to commit to it, wholeheartedly.

• One choice means people with similar mindsets and passions, but possibly no opportunities to use specific parts of my story to minister, which is something I know I need to do.
• The other choice means accepting dissonance between my perspective and theirs, and having little support for causes that are dear to my heart, but possibly having a way to minister through sharing my story.

Quoi? Qui? Comment? Moi aussi. . .

Is it selfish of me to want to surround myself with people who aren't settling, who say "I don't know" but are seeking, who challenge and inspire me, who are brave enough to call me on my junk, who love me despite this junk?
Is it fair to be disappointed that I currently can't find this?
How can I be the catalyst? Am I brave enough to live what I know is true and what I seek to find in others?
*insert I Have Decided (verse 3) here*

I had hoped to find some answers on my little Waldening weekend (ok, I cheated and stayed in a hotel), but I think I came home with more questions than answers.



I'll leave you with one last Status quote, to me it is both relieving and incredibly challenging:

It doesn't take you and me doing "great things" for the kingdom. It doesn't take you standing on a platform and speaking to people. It doesn't take you being able to play music. It takes me and it takes you becoming less and less centered around ourselves and thats when God's kingdom comes.

If I were a gamblin' woman, (which I am not, because (a) I'm poor, and (2) I'm poor) I'd bet that this makes very little sense to anyone, including whatever side of me wakes up and rereads it tomorrow morning.














* And by "dishes" I mean "scriptures," but who doesn't love Lumiere?

I begin paragraphs in odd places (and other confessions)

For the record, I do not consider myself athletic, or even in shape, and I'm pretty sure no one else has ever thought to classify me as such either. B u t . . . I've always considered myself strong, kind of unexplainably so. I used to pride myself on being able to do physical acts on my own, i,.e., moving furniture and other heavy things, contorting myself into awkward positions in order to drill at a good angle, sawing random wood scraps into usable sizes, walking abnormal places/distances, etc. . .

I supposed a good part of it was sheer will. Will that grew out of pride, out of wanting to prove myself. And doomed was the person who got in the way. The secret to convincing me to do something was (is?) telling me I can't, or that you won't let me.

Why was/is my independence and strength so important to me? At what point did I start to believe that that's where I found my identity?
Actually, I think I know the answer to that: when I could no longer find my identity in my academic achievements. I like to laugh and tell people I peeked in high school. In a manner of speaking that's true. I became salutatorian without really trying, I was voted "most scholastic" or something, I had great test scores, I was the one my friends called for homework help. . . Then came college and a serious wake-up call rivaled only by an icy Indonesian shower. I was no longer the best, I wasn't even average most of the time. My idea of who I was got totally wrecked, and it took awhile to reform it.

Unfortunately, I didn't rebuild on the Rock. I, like the foolish man, chose the sands of self-sufficiency.

Over the past four or five months I've been wrecked again. These abilities I've wrapped my identity around have mostly been taken away. The specifics as to how and why are not important, but this new journey I'm on is. A few weeks ago I listened to David Miller's message at Status and, oddly enough, he talked about finding our identity in God. "We are who God says and thats it." Simple enough, eh? Not for me. Even as I'm losing who I thought I was, I can see myself grasping for other things, inadequate things, like art. Creating things is huge to me, it's something God put inside me, but it is not who I am. Some days I lose sight of why I paint and my self esteem crashes. I see what I've made and compare it to what I see in the galleries and I start to feel worthless. It'll never match up, but thats not the purpose. Creating is one way I connect with God. If I lose sight of its true purpose and make it my source of worth, I will ruin yet another thing God has placed in me for my good and His glory. (fyi, this is why I think its sometimes bunk when people refuse to do things simply because they aren't good at them. If you enjoy it-do it.)

Honestly, I have no idea who I am. I don't even know why I need to know, but for some reason I do. My hope is that as I learn more about this "God-man" (as they say), I will have a clearer picture of myself and who I am to be, but even more that that I hope to lose interest in anything that is me in favor of all that is God.

This post took an odd turn somewhere. I intended to write more about my recent frustrations with being unable to do things the way I once could. This was most evident last Saturday when we did some post-tornado clean-up. After working a shamefully short amount of time I was spent. I felt lazy and disappointed in myself, which is kinda the norm lately, but this time it was public. On one hand I was embarrassed for not having the endurance or strength to work harder/longer, and on the other I felt like I let people down. Another lesson I'm learning (slowly) is to let God alone define failure. I spend way to much time and energy trying to please other people. We are not called to succeed, we are called to obey. God will handle the results. So, in a way, obedience is success. . .

Oy, so many thoughts.